TITLE: Stuff Me, Shoot Me, Mount Me 4

AUTHORS: Zusblue and Esme.

EMAIL: zusblue@yahoo.co.uk & akiyah2000@yahoo.co.uk

DISTRIBUTION: Nummytreats, Slashthemen, m-mslashaholics and Esme's new site http://www.shadows-and-dust.co.uk

SUMMARY: Spike and Xander make a wager that will change the way they think of each other forever.

RATING: R at the moment, just to be on the safe side.

DISCLAIMER: All characters are owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy etc. We're just playing with them for a while, we promise to give them back unharmed and relatively sane when we're done. We're not making any money from this.

NOTES: This is a response to an idea from Stephanie Hiding. Spike and Xander make a wager that Spike isn't able to seduce the Scoobies. ALL of the Scoobies.

FEEDBACK: Yes please, but to zusblue@yahoo.co.uk for this part. It was zus that wrote it.


Stuff Me, Shoot Me, Mount Me 4: Willow
by Zusblue

Spike sauntered into the Magic Box, he was on a high.

He could still feel the tingle in his palm from the Xander wank earlier. Bloody hell that had been good, hot heavy, intense and just what he needed. Jesus, he'd been so hard after that, he'd found the nearest dark alley and shot more vigorously than he had in a *long* time!

Just remembering the dazed look in the Whelp's eyes... and oh gods' getting him to say it, say he wanted him; and that wet, pink tongue snaking out to glaze a plump, pink nibble-able lower Xander lip.... Spike smiled to himself as he headed over to Willow, fingering the jar in his hand.

Who'd have thought the lad was a nipple man? Some blokes hated having them played with, but Xander didn't, if the groan and buck the lad had given was anything to go by.

Suddenly the nerves in Spike's teeth seemed to come to life. Nibble, nibble, nibble on a pink bud of Xander nipple. Oh bloody hell, he really wanted to sink his teeth into one of those babies, just hard enough to make the lad gasp; give them a good suck an see what kind of love bite you could get.

"Hey Spike" Willow didn't bother looking up from her computer; she knew it was Spike, why'd she need to look? She wasn't one of the darn best Wicca's this side of Sunnydale for nothing buddy!

Spike stopped as he reached the table. This was gonna be too easy, he thought to himself, as smiling at the top of Willow's head, he nodded a hello and wondered if Tara had told Red about their little *chat*. "Red" he finally acknowledged, after the appropriate 'cool' time had elapsed.

Spike tried to swallow the grin pulling at the corners of his mouth and get on with it. The Magic Box was closed, but it wouldn't stay empty for long.

With most of the lights off and the corners shrouded in shadows, the shop looked like an empty theatre set waiting for the first act. Spike focused on Willow, tapping away inside the halo of light cast by the table lamp.
Hello baby, he thought to himself, let the show begin! And pulling a chair out, he straddled it and plonked the glass jar on the table in font of them.

Willow finally stopped tapping and focused on the small green jar, raising her eyebrows to Spike she silently asked the question he'd had been waiting for.

Too bloody easy, Spike thought. "I need your help luv..."

Willow gave Spike a curious look and pushed the keyboard aside, reaching for the jar. Ok, she was interested and in the half-light of the magic box its contents glowed luminously. She could feel power locked away under that screw top lid.

Spike smirked as Willow held the jar to the light and tried to peer inside, she looked kind of cute with her brow furrowing; he almost felt sorry for what he was about to do. almost!

Looking down he started to pat his leather duster for smokes, he had so many places to hide stuff in the black coat, it was easy to forget where he'd left them.

Willow smiled as she pulled the jar back and gave the lid a sharp twist, whatever was inside, she was sure Spike wouldn't want it; not when he found out it was magic. He'd never been into that kind of stuff before and maybe she could use it to help bring Buffy back.. Maybe the Big Bad would do a deal for some of her cookies...

Spike continued patting obliviously, looking inside his coat and searching. "What do you make of it then, Red?"

He finally found his pack and made a great show of tapping a cigarette out. "Is it the real thing?"

Willow struggled with the lid, it was twisted tight and the last couple of turns were kind of hard. "Real what?" she asked giving a little grunt as the lid finally gave.

Spike looked up from his lighter at the sudden pop of the jar-opening, cigarette dangling between his lips. "Didn't I tell you luv?" He asked as the room exploded in a blinking flash. Blinking back tears and trying to bat the floating powder away. He continued "its Folark Demon itching dust. Most potent stuff this side of the Hell mouth."

Spike was already up and out of his chair before the words had left his mouth, shrugging out of his coat and tugging at the buttons on his shirt.

As the cloud cleared, Spike could see Willow, jar still clutched in hand, lid rattling on the table where she'd dropped it. Her face was priceless, Spike thought as the last particles of powder floated down coating her eyelashes and dotting her nose. Pulling at the zip of his pants he could see her mouth start to form an 'O' as the itching kicked in.

Kicking off his boots and hopping from leg to leg as he tried to pull down his too tight pants, Spike decided to help her out. "It's activated by natural fibres luv and I'll wager the setting time of that stuff is non too long, so unless you're a nylon knickers lass, you'd best start shedding."

Willow gapped, she could feel the itching starting up already, like thousands of tiny fire ants crawling all over her body; travelling down her neckline and into her shirt, pooling in her bra an creeping into her panties. Suddenly she was up and kicking off her shoes. Modesty was forgotten as the burn started, she *had* to get outta her clothes, pull em off, get em *away*!

Like a white knight from a fairy tale, suddenly Spike was at her side, helping her unbutton her shirt and pull the darn things *OFF*. Making little squeaks of disgust, Willow's frantic fingers couldn't move fast enough as she unbuttoned her skirt and kicked it away, peeling out of her t-shirt and scratch, scratch' scratching.

Spike felt a little contrite as Red pulled her fingernails down her arms, frantically clawing at her skin as the last of her day wear fell to the floor.

"Their, their luv" he crooned, patting her back. "All better now Pet. Bloody good job you wear cheep synthetic undis now isn't it?" Folding an arm over her shoulders Spike pulled her away from the settled dust cloud and gave her a quick hug.

"Now, I can see your cold Red luv, you could hang bloody coats on your. er.. Anyway! Why don't you nip into the back an find something to put on?"

Willow whipped her eyes, the itching was starting to fade already and embarrassment was kicking in. She was standing in the middle of the magic box, in her bra and panties, with *Spike* - and all he was wearing, was a pair of the most disgustingly loud shorts she'd ever seen... and a smile! Ek! Popped through her mind and made a dash for the shadows.

Suddenly the back of the Magic Box seemed a *real* good idea. "Er, erm. Okey-Dokey, er, right-back-atcha." she babbled as she backed out of the shop, trying to hide the off-white old sports bra and threadbare panties. Gee, she thought, if she'd know she was gonna end up like *this* this morning, she'd have worn better stuff (or at least a set that matched).

Spike watched her back away, blushing. This was so bloody funny! Reaching back he pulled at the nylon waistband of the shorts he'd liberated, on his visit to the Whelp's earlier.

Trying *not* to look at them, he carefully gathered his stuff and headed out the shop, calling over his shoulder "don't worry about paying me for the dust luv, you keep it, just leave old Spike a couple of O neg bags an we'll call it even."

Closing the door behind him, Spike grinned as a scaly arm handed him a pair of black jeans and T. Shoving his powder covered gear into a paper bag, Spike wriggled into clean clothes. "Got the picture, mate?"

The demon smiled an extra toothy grin "Oh, yes Mr. Spike, on the special film, just like you asked. and may I say what a lovely."

"Yeah, yeah" Spike cut him off. "But did you get any good shots?"

"Oh, most definitely Mr. Spike, I thought the semi-naked embrace most touching!"

Spike nodded and took the camera "just between you an me, no extra copies for your private collection mind"

"Oh, no. no. I'd never."

"Right, so off you toddle. Sod off, debts paid an all that."

"Oh thank you, thank you Mr. Spike", said the demon backing away hurriedly and disappearing as fast as his short green legs would allow.

Spike watched his co-conspirator scamper into the darkness. Wait until the Whelp gets a load of *these* he thought looking down at the camera in his hand. This should get me something from him this time. Save me wankin' in the shadows of me own crypt anyway.

Pocketing the camera and swinging the bag, he headed home. Ok, so it wasn't a seduction as such, but he'd got her bloody clothes off hadn't he? And who said he had to play fair? Come on, he was evil for Christ's sake!

He smirked.

Two down!